A Trick Of The Tail
by Wartermehloan
Summary: Pre-series. Children go missing and the Winchesters go to the small town to investigate. But will what they thought to be a simple hunt be much more than what they can manage? Teenchesters. Worried/John. Limp/Sam. Hurt/Protective/Dean
1. The Gunners Dream

**A/N.**

**Hiya, this is my first Supernatural fic and one of my first ever, so sorry if it's bad. Just please let me know if it is bad, the more criticism the better, then I can improve. So yeah.. Enjoy. Or at least tell me if you don't ;)**

**P.S,**

**Firstly, Im British and am not familiar with American 'slang', geography, school system, etc. Secondly, I'm dyslexic, so please tell me if something isn't right or anything.**

**DISCLAIMER - If Supernatural were mine, you would know because I would be Dean's girlfriend who's really bad at acting.**

**_Thing's you should know:_ This is pre-series. Set when Sam is 13 and Dean is 17. Around March/April time.**

* * *

**A Trick of the Tail**

**~1~**

**The Gunner's Dream**

"Don't bitch face me, I said I'm sorry." Dean replied warily, wiping away the beads of sweat that were rolling down his face. "I thought the Impala would make it before it ran out of gas."

Sam had been in an irritable mood since the second he had gotten into the classic car to drive from Baltimore to where they were now; Wayne, Pennsylvania. They had barely entered the desolate county when the engine began to grumble in response to the lack of fuel and had slowed to a halt in the middle of an empty road. An empty road with no cell service. The trees that decorated the side of the road offered little shelter from the sweltering sun as the boys pushed the car closer to town. Sam was leaning inside the drivers side, steering the car and pushing while Dean was pushing at the back.

"Well, _I_'m sorry if pushing a two-tonne chunk of _metal, _up a _hill, _in _85 degree _weather isn't exactly how I want to spend my saturday afternoon!" Sam huffed angrily.

Dean shook his head slightly to himself. He wasn't used to this whole Kevin the Teenager attitude he had been getting from Sam lately. It was on their last hunt in Baltimore where he had first started to notice it; all the mood swings and the tantrums and, the thing that scared Dean the most; disagreeing with their father. His attitude was why their father was still in Baltimore, finishing the hunt, while they started on the next one and met with him in a few hours at the motel.

Dean's thought's vanished when his brothers comment registered. He stopped pushing the car and turned to look at Sam.

"_Chunk of metal? _Chunk of metal?" He repeated incredulously, rising to his full height. "This is a classic car -"

"I guess one's _classic car _is another's scrap metal." Sam interrupted with, despite himself, a smirk appearing at the corners of his lips.

"Scr- scr-" Dean struggled to get the word out.

"Well how else do you explain why it brakes down all the time?" Sam asked.

"Of corse it's going to brake every now and then! Classic cars are temperamental, a small price to pay for-"

"Temperamental?"

"Yeah, just like you."

"Since when do you use words like _temperamental_?" Sam asked bemusedly, eyebrows raised. "Did you read that on the side of a cereal box or something?"

"Since when did you stop moving the car, come on. I'm hungry." Dean deadpanned, resuming his position of pushing the back of the car up the hill.

Sam shook his head to himself, turning round to continue his role in getting the car up the road. "Do you realise how much of your life revolves around food?" He called over his shoulder.

"Do you realise how much of your life revolves around being a pain in my ass?" Dean retorted with a tight voice as he put all his weight into moving the Impala.

"Hey, Dean? Do you know what were hunting here?" Sam asked.

"Dunno… " Dean huffed, preoccupied. "Guess we'll find out more tonight."

Sam wiped the sweat off his brow with the long sleeves of his tattered plaid shirt, cursing the blistering weather as he went. "Why were you so excited for this hunt anyways?" He turned around just in time to catch Dean grinning to himself, "What?"

"Do you reckon we'll see a squonk?" Dean smirked.

Sam furrowed his brows, "A squ-what?"

"A squonk."

Sam's bewildered expression deepened as he caught on, "That thing from the Genesis song?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded, squinting his eyes at the sun.

"What makes you think we'll find a squonk?" Sam asked incredulously.

Dean shrugged with a cocky smirk, "They live in the forests of northern Pennsylvania."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed, "Maybe we'll see a zombie too, there are meant to be tonnes of them round here."

"Now that's just ridiculous." Dean argued.

"Not any more ridiculous than spotting a fugly warthog that cries so much it dissolves in it's own tears because of it's low self-esteem issues."

"But we know for a fact zombies aren't real." The older hunter countered.

"No we don't." Sam said indignantly, "But if they _are_ real they wouldn't be too much of a bother for you."

Dean stopped and stretched out the kinks out of his back before continuing, "Im pretty sure a walking corpse strolling round like a wannabe Boris Karloff would be a bit of a bother."

Sam grinned, "Nah, zombies hunt for brains. You'd be safe."

Dean paused his pushing of the Impala to glare at his brother. The younger Winchester was thankful that the heat from the day and exhaustion from the labour of pushing the car up the hill had resulted in Dean letting that one slide. Any other day and he'd be toast.

Sam, seeming to only notice how tired his older brother looked then, asked, "Do you want me to push for a bit?"

Dean shook his head; although Sam was in good shape and well-trained, he still didn't have much muscle on his small, bony frame and would only find it much harder than he did. Besides, they were already entering the outskirts of the town. "Just shut your pie-hole and steer."

* * *

Three and a half hours later found the brothers inside a ratty motel room, with an Impala full of gas outside, and newspapers they had gotten from the petrol station scattered across the floor. It was dark outside and the dim light the cheap room offered made the boys have to squint as they read through the papers, but it seemed to make the mould on the wallpaper stand out more than it did in the day. Sam was rather happy their father wasn't around for the research part of the new hunt, it was always a tedious job when the man kept interrupting his reading, asking questions and rebounding idea's off of him then telling him off for not reading fast enough. But this was short-lived when, after a few short hours of circling titles and cutting out articles, the door opened and their father walked in.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Dean asked from his position on the floor with newspaper clippings strewn around him.

"Casual salt'n burn. No hitches." John shrugged exasperatedly, "What we got? Have we found anything yet?" He asked, already pulling up a chair and grabbing a pile of newspapers the boys had already gone through. Both boys were amazed and in awe of how their father could just finish a job, get in a car, drive a few hours and dive straight into helping with research for the next hunt.

"Yeah," Dean started, "The thing - we're not sure what it is yet - seems to prey on children."

"What does it do to them?" John questioned.

Sam shook his head, "We're not sure. A couple of children - seven that we could find - have gone missing, no bodies found and no strong leads as to where they vanished to."

"How old?"

Sam looked down at the short-hand scribbles he had made on a piece of paper, "Er… Youngest was a five year old boy called Jonty Marks. Oldest was a fourteen year old girl, Karen Weller."

"Any links?"

Sam shook his head, "None that we could find. They all come from different backgrounds."

"Do you know what it could be?" Dean looked sceptically up at the oldest Winchester.

John shook his head, wiping a calloused hand across his face "We'll have to look further into it. I'll ask some of the family's tomorrow about the missing children."

With that, the oldest Winchester stood up and carried his duffle bag onto the bed closest to the door. "Get some rest you two, you're starting a new school tomorrow."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean caught the roll of his younger brothers eyes and the irritated look colouring his face. But, fortunately, he kept his mouth shut and moved to shove the stacks of newspapers into a wayward pile to the side.

Dean was tired himself and bought his own duffle bag to the bed next to his fathers, leaving Sam the bed by the wall at the end of the room and furthest front the door. It was the position they always took when they could, making it second nature to the two oldest Winchesters - their protective musings constantly at work, wether it be in their conscious or subconscious.

After having crawled into bed, Sam lay in the dark and watched the wind move the branches of the trees outside. He didn't like travelling to different schools every time there was a new hunt. Saving people was okay; it gave him purpose. But why were the lives of all victims of the supernatural their responsibility? They weren't, or they didn't have to be. But their father's obsession with the hunt had made it their responsibility to save everything from all evil. But there was so much evil in the world, Sam felt that it was an impossible job. And a job he didn't want.

He wanted to play soccer after school with his friends, not go home and train or research the next monster in another dark, mouldy motel room. He wanted to be a normal kid and do normal things. But, most of all, he wanted his father to be proud of him. Sam was good at everything a normal kid could be good at; he was intelligent, a great athlete and a good friend, but he wasn't a good hunter. And that was all that mattered to his father.

Sam sighed and rolled over on his bed. He had tried to be a good hunter like his brother. He trained when he was asked and helped when he could in a hunt, but he wasn't strong like Dean. Couldn't handle a weapon like Dean. And everything he did right didn't seem to matter to his father, only the things he did wrong seemed to stand out.

Sam turned again and slowly started to fall asleep, thinking bitterly about the new school he would be going to, at another new town with other new people to meet that he couldn't be friends with.

* * *

Sam watched the scenery move along out the window as the Impala rolled on. He liked school but he didn't like starting new ones. Having your first day of a new school in the middle of the year didn't have many vantages. He was the new kid… again. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't the new kid.

"Hello," His brothers voice broke through his reverie, "Earth to Sulky Samantha."

"Im not sulking." Sam grumbled.

"Sure you're not." Dean voiced, keeping his eyes on the road. "Come on, it's not that bad. Just try and have fun."

"I never said it was bad." Sam argued.

"Yeah, well you were thinking it." Dean said but decided to leave it alone when Sam only turned to look back out the window in response. "Look, I've talked to Dad. We should be staying here for a bit longer than usual."

Sam turned to his brother, "He actually said that?"

Dean nodded, "Well, he thinks this hunt is gunna be a long one. We haven't really got anything to go on. And even if it isn't, he still agreed we could stay 'til the end of the year."

Sam grinned and Dean smiled at the flash of dimples on his brothers face he lived for.

Suddenly more excited for the school day, Sam sat at the edge of his seat in anticipation as he saw the entrance to the middle school appear at the end of the road. Dean's grin widened, happy to see his brothers enthusiasm for his education shine through again; it was what made him Sam. "Well don't wet yourself. It's just school."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and got out the car when it came to a halt outside the tall front building. As he shut the door and walked round the car, Dean rolled down the drivers window and Sam bent to hear his brother, "I'll meet you back here at 3:20. Don't be late."

"Or what?" Sam teased.

Dean raised a brow, "I have a gun and a shovel in the boot. I doubt you'll be missed." With an exaggerated eye roll, Sam turned and headed for the entrance to his new school. Before driving off towards the local high school, Dean called after him, "Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

**A/N. Scrap? Or keep?**

**Please tell me what you thought - criticise all you want (it will help)**

**Thank you Xx**


	2. Another Brick In The Wall

**A/N. Thank you so much to all of you that reviewed and followed! It all really helped and made me really happy that you guys enjoyed it. **

**Again, any comments at all are welcomed, negative or positive.**

**Enjoy X**

* * *

_**Previously: ** _

_"I have a gun and a shovel in the boot. I doubt you'll be missed." With an exaggerated eye roll, Sam turned and headed for the entrance to his new school. Before driving off towards the local high school, Dean called after him, "Bitch."_

_"Jerk."_

**A Trick Of the Tail**

**~2~**

**Another Brick In The Wall**

The school didn't seem half bad. In fact, the more of the middle school Sam saw, the more he liked it. His first few lessons had been genuinely interesting and the teachers were hired at a good standard.

Sam had just finished a long morning of Science and Maths and was in the boys bathroom, about to head off to lunch, when the door flung open and a boy came sprinting in, rushing into one of the cubicles. Before he could even close the cubicle, the bathroom door flung open again and a tall, muscular boy came running in after him. He got to the cubicle before the other boy could even lock it and pushed it open with enough force to send the skinnier boy onto the toilet.

"You're dead Collins!" The larger boy lurched forward, about to swing a punch when the smaller boy ducked and quickly ran under his arm and out of the toilet cubicle, backing away from the bigger boy, arms raised.

"Look, dude, I didn't mean anything by it." The boy said nonchalantly, as if the person in front of him didn't have the word 'murder' written all over his face. "It was just a -"

He was cut off when the thug lurched forward again. The boy was fast but wasn't quite fast enough and got a couple nasty jabs to the stomach, "Here, take it man." Collins said, offering the small book that he was holding in one hand.

The bulky kid snatched out the book with an animalistic ferocity.

"So... we're cool?" The lankier kid asked, ignoring the glare he was being looked at with.

The thug replied with a roar and kicked out at the boy's legs and punched his stomach, about to punch him in the face, Sam broke out of his frenzy, "Hey!"

Both boys jumped slightly at the volume of Sam's voice, not having realised there was another kid in the bathroom. Startled, the thug turned his head round to look at Sam. "Who you looking at?" The large boy challenged.

Sam rose to the bait, "Who am I looking at? That depends… What's your name?"

The boy turned his body towards Sam, forgetting his previous target who was hunched around his stomach in pain. "What's my name?" He voiced menacingly, "My name is none of your business." With that he lunged at Sam, who simply took a step back.

Another couple of punches were swung which Sam easily ducked and sidestepped. The fact the boy kept missing only infuriated him more. Sam could easily take on the bully but he didn't want to make a bad first impression in this school if he was going to be staying there for a while. The door swung open for a third time and a teacher came in.

"Lucas! What the hell do you think your doing?" The furious red-faced gym coach boomed, having watched the two boys sprint into the bathroom.

Upon the coaches hand gestures, Lucas grudgingly walked toward the door, shooting a glare at Sam before leaving.

"You okay?" The coach asked. Sam nodded and the coach left, holding the back of the boys shirt to frogmarch him to the principle's office.

When the door shut, Sam strode over to the boy who was still curled round his stomach. "Are you alright?" He asked.

The boy, Collins, straightened up with a wince, after a few seconds his face changed to an expression that masked the pain well. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He shrugged, "I'm Kyle by the way. Sam, right?" Sam nodded. Kyle was taller than Sam with a skinny frame, his hair was a shade of blonde that made it look almost white. "I'm kinda hungry." He added as a side thought, "Lunch?"

Sam nodded, slightly impressed at how the boy could brush off a few punches like it were nothing. As they walked towards the cafeteria Sam turned to Kyle, "What happened with that guy?" Sam asked, nodding his head back at the bathroom.

"Who? Our very own William Wallace back there?" Kyle asked, Sam nodded. "He dropped his diary earlier today. I took it upon myself to read a bit to his friends. I think he took it the wrong way."

"Really?" Sam raised his brows, "What was your first clue?"

Kyle grinned, "I think it was probably the look on his face when he heard me reading this poem about a girl." He took a breath, "Yeah, I don't think he liked that."

"He writes poetry?"

"Yeah, it was cute." Kyle shrugged, his grin widening. "_You make my heart zumm like a bee, even when I'm feeling melancholy..." _He quoted. Sam laughed as Kyle snorted and they both paid for their lunch.

Kyle lead Sam over to a small table at the edge of the lunch hall, giving him a running commentary as they made their way over, "Okay, blonde girl is called Nellie, she's cool, plays lot of sport. Brunette next to her is Katie - she's smart, like on the verge of genius. Dark haired tall guy is Big Jack. Black haired girl, Zoe gets a bit hot headed at times. Little Jack is the small one with short blonde hair, he's nice and all, doesn't talk much, but he has demons inside him, and when he snaps, people will die. And then there's me, the witty, good looking one of the group."

They arrived at the table and Kyle introduced Sam to all of them before they sat down.

"Where bouts do you live, Sam?" Katie asked.

It was a question he was often asked, but never really new how to answer. He could say that he lived in the shabby motel a few streets over, but that would give off an impression he didn't want to live with. "A few blocks that way." He answered as vaguely as he could, nodding his head to the right.

"Where did you move from?" Big Jack questioned, digging into his pile of fries.

"My family travel a lot." Sam voided.

"That's so cool! I've always wanted to go travelling." Katie enthused, her already large eyes widening.

"What do your parents do?" Little Jack asked politely.

Luckily, Sam didn't have to answer when a small girl came over from a different table and walked over to Nellie. "Hey Nel," She greeted with a sympathetic face. Nellie had been slowly eating her way through her meal and had seemed distracted the whole five minutes Sam had known her. "I heard about your sister." Nellie swallowed and looked down at her plate, hiding the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. "Look… I'm really sorry. And if you ever need anything -"

"Layla, if you don't turn around and go back where you came from, I swear I'll cut your chest open and pour that banana smoothie into your right lung until the blood vessels swell up and turn yellow." Zoe hissed loudly. The girl, Layla, turned and left sharply. "Self centred, unsympathetic, whiney little-"

"Zoe." Big Jack warned. Zoe glared at him but shut her mouth and continued to eat.

Katie had already begun the task of calming Nellie down, speaking softly to her while rubbing soothing circles on her back. Suddenly, Nellie pulled it together and sat up straighter, wiping away her tears determinedly. "Sorry guys." She apologised, "This must be getting boring."

The group shook their heads in protest. Sam didn't want to ask, the girl was obviously upset enough but she caught his confused expression and smiled sadly at him. "My little sister went missing a couple of days ago." She explained.

Sam's expression immediately morphed into one of utter sympathy, "I'm sorry." He said quietly, "How old is she?"

"She's eight." Nellie told him, "There have been other kidnappings round here though."

"Really?" Sam asked, appearing oblivious to the missing children as his hunters instincts kicked in, "That's horrible. What do you think happened?"

"No one knows." Katie shrugged, "But the police are all over it, don't worry Nel. They'll find her soon."

Nellie simply nodded then stood, "I'll see you guys later. I'm gunna go." Katie and Amber both stood up to follow after her.

"That's awful, doesn't anyone know anything about the kidnappings?" Sam asked once they had left.

Big Jack shook his head, "My dad's the Sheriff. They've got nothing to go on."

Sam raised his brows, "Nothing? Surely there's something."

"There's small things." Big Jack shrugged, "But they can't make any sense of it; nothing worth telling the parents about."

Kyle leant in keenly, "Like what?"

"Well," Big Jack started, Sam and Little Jack had to lean in to hear, "They were all taken while they were sleeping and all the windows had been left open, but some of the rooms were way too high for anyone to get in or out - so they're thinking that's just coincidence. All the doors were locked and it didn't look like anyone broke in. And there was no sign of any struggle or anything, which is strange, considering one of the girls was a year older than us and would have more sense than to willingly go with some dude." Jack sipped at his drink before continuing, "But the weirdest thing is that there was a bit of sulphur in each of the bedrooms."

"Sulphur?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, by the window."

* * *

Sam's mind reeled with all the questions that needed answering. Where had the demon taken all the children? Why did it need children in the first place? What was it doing with them? Were they dead already? Or, if they were still alive, how long would they stay that way?

When the Impala rolled up and stopped by the tree it had stopped at that morning, Sam walked over.

"Hurry up short stack, I'm hungry." Dean called out his open window.

"Dean," Sam said seriously once he had sunk into the passenger seat, "It's a demon."

"What?" Dean asked, turning to Sam, "How do you know?"

They pulled out the school and started heading to the motel as Sam recounted the conversation he'd had with Big Jack, "I met someone today who's the son of the Sheriff."

"What'd he say?" Dean prompted.

"They haven't got anything worth telling the families yet. But all the windows were left open and there was bits of sulphur left near them."

"Was that all?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, "Pretty much, other than there wasn't any sign of struggle."

Dean bit his lower lip, a frown masking his features, "This doesn't make sense," He thought aloud, "If it's a demon, what the hell would the son of a bitch want with a bunch of children?"

The brothers both got out the car when it rolled up outside the motel. John's truck was outside and they weren't surprised to see him sat at the kitchen table, coffee in hand when they walked in.

"Dad, we know what it is." Dean said when he walked in.

John didn't look up from the old book he was reading when he replied, "Yeah?"

"It's a demon." Sam siad, before describing exactly what Big Jack had said.

John's expression was similar to the one Dean wore when he had heard the news, "What would a demon want with specifically children?"

"That's what I said," Dean agreed, "usually the bitches go round and screw with everyone and anyone who get's in their way, they're not sentimental enough to go after _just_ children."

"What did the families say?" Sam asked their father.

John rubbed a hand across his face, "Nothing much." He sipped at his coffee, "There aren't any obvious links between the children."

"Did you find anything in their rooms?" Dean asked.

John shook his head, "I didn't look, didn't have the right ID with me. I thought we'd go check tonight."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"One of the families is out tonight - the one with the missing eight year old - has a meeting with the sheriff about their child." He explained "I saw it on their calendar."

"No." Sam said, shaking his head, "I'm not going to break into their house, I just met the girls sister. She's distraught!"

"So?" John asked, rising from his chair and looking down at his youngest son, challenging him.

Sam took a step back, his expression faltering for a second, "So, I'm not going to break into their house." He said defiantly.

"Sam," The oldest Winchester said quietly, but threateningly, "We are helping that girl and her sister. You are going to come with us and check out that house. That's an order." He hissed.

Sam bit his lip, staring up at his father. "Sam." His father warned.

"Yes sir." Sam let out before turning around and walking away.

* * *

**Later that evening**

Dean started picking at the lock while his younger brother and father stood guard. They were all dressed in black for the occasion, armed with a knife each and a shotgun of rock salt and another with bullets. After a few moments of expert fiddling with the tools, the back door clicked open and the Winchesters filed their way into the dark kitchen, flashlights blaring.

John stayed to check downstairs while the two boys made their way up the stairs to go through each room to find anything that would help them find the children, leaving the little girl's room last.

When they walked into the room that was obviously Nellie's, Sam felt a weight in his chest. He barely knew her, had met her only this morning, yet he still felt like he was betraying her, breaking into her house.

Dean also felt strongly for the girl as he saw all the pictures of the two sisters together. It was obvious how close the two were, despite the five year difference. His heart tugged as he imagined Sammy being taken by some child-hunting demon. His eye's widened as he realised that that could very well be a possibility. He was in the age-range of the kidnappings, and it wasn't exactly like he repelled the supernatural.

Instinctively, he turned to look at Sam. His heart skipped a beat when he couldn't see him. He visibly relaxed when he realised his younger brother was back in the corridor, going to check another room. He caught up with him and, together, they ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape and entered the room of the little girl, Alia. Alia also had lots of pictures of her and her larger sister decorating her walls.

The boy's took longer in Alia's room, analysing every bit of floor, ceiling, furniture and wall with their flashlights. Something shimmered on the bit of the floor Dean's flashlight had just covered. He backtracked and with the light shining on it directly, he couldn't see it. Moving his flashlight away slightly, the small thing caught the light again and shimmered. Dean dug his hand into the fluffy white carpet and picked up the object, putting it in his palm and shining the light on it. It was about as big as his fingernail but more oval and an odd, translucent dark green.

"Sammy."

"It's Sam."

"Whatever, come here."

Sam made his way over to his brother and looked at the small object in his hands. "What is it?" He asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know." He said, pocketing the small thing, "We'll check it out later, we've got 15 minutes 'til the family come back. We need to leave."

They did one last scan of the room before deciding that, other than the sulphur by the window, nothing was there that deemed suspicious. Just as they were about to leave, Sam was checking out the window sill when he spotted another dark green, fingernail type-thing caught between the glass and the pane. He tugged it out and held it up to the torch light.

"Dean, I found another one." He called quietly.

Dean looked up and gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Pocket it. Let's go."

Sam nodded and the two boys both ducked back under the police line and headed back for the staircase. But came to a halt when they heard a light turn on downstairs, the thud of the front door shutting and the murmur of voices. Sam and Dean glanced at each other before heading stealthily back to Alia's room, both thinking that that was the closest room to the ground.

Dean clambered out first, standing on the window pane and jumping the two and a half metres to land on the outside of the railing of a balcony that came out from the master bedroom. Sam copied his brother, standing on the sill and tried to jump to the balcony. But he was smaller than Dean and had much shorter legs. He landed on the edge of the balcony but, before he had time to hold onto the railing, he lost his footing on a particularly slippery patch of wood. His heart leapt into his throat as he fell.

Dean reacted quickly and caught his brothers flailing arm, but not before Sam whacked his head on the corner of the balcony.

Dean grunted from the burden of holding Sam's entire weight, dangling over the balcony, in one arm while maintaining a death grip on the railing with the other. Sam's arm was yanked hard when Dean caught him, but he was more worried about how his feet dangled precariously over the 11 meter drop to the ground. Dean quickly hoisted Sam onto his feet on the edge of the balcony, making sure he had a good grip on the railing before letting go and continuing with the escape.

"Thanks." Sam breathed, still shaken.

They scaled round the edge of the balcony until they got to the thick trunk of a tree. Dean jumped quietly from the balcony to the tree, followed closely by Sam. They climbed down the large trunk until they were ten feet up and Dean could see no further branches to climb down with. He shrugged and jumped down, expertly rolling out of it once he touched ground. Sam sighed and also jumped out, pulling a similar manoeuvre upon landing but adjusting it so he didn't land on his bad arm, but cradled it to his chest.

Once Sam was down, they both started running quietly and quickly in the dark (a talent perfected with long years of training) back to the Impala a few blocks down the street.

John was waiting for them by his truck with a frown on his face when they approached him, out of breath. "What took you both so long?" He demanded, "They could've come back at any moment."

"Sorry, Sir." Dean breathed, "They did come back." He explained.

John's eyes widened, "Did they spot you."

Dean shook his head, "Don't think so."

"Let's get back to the motel, we'll talk there."

* * *

Back at the motel, the three Winchesters sat around the table once again. John said he hadn't found anything. Dean clarified that there was definitely sulphur and he pulled out the small green thing they had found.

"Where were these?" John asked.

"I found this one in the carpet by the bed. Sam found one too, lodged into the edge of the window." Dean confirmed.

"Let's see." John said, turning to Sam. When he didn't reply, John tried to get his attention again, "Sam?" Sam blinked and looked up, "Something wrong?"

Sam shook his head but winced at the movement, "Just a headache."

John narrowed his eyes but continued, "Did you find one of these too?" He asked, gesturing to the thing Dean was holding.

"Oh, yeah." Sam said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the dark green object.

John took Dean's one while Sam inspected his own. After a few minutes, John gave up and put it down, handing it back to Dean who studied it after him. "What d'you reckon, Sam?" John asked.

"I…" Sam trailed off as he frowned at the transparent piece of green held between his fingers, "I think it's some sort of… scale." John nodded his agreement.

"A fish?" Dean offered.

John shook his head, "It's thicker than that."

"So, like a snake?"

Sam nodded, "Or a lizard."

"Well that's just great," Dean commented dryly, "Hunting a demonic Curt Connors wasn't in the job description."

John rolled his eyes.

"Sammy, you alright?" Dean asked when he noticed Sam squinting and touching his hand tentatively to his head.

"Yeah. Headache." He explained distantly.

"How's your arm?" Dean asked, remembering how he had yanked it when he was trying to keep him from falling off the balcony.

"Your arm?" John asked, turning to Sam.

When Sam didn't reply, Dean filled John in, "He slipped a bit when we were pulling the Great Escape."

"Let's see." John commanded.

Sam looked at his father. Seeing the stern expression that marred his face, he sighed and, knowing his Dad wouldn't let it go, pulled off his top. He turned his body to show his back to his father.

Dean saw the bruises and immediately felt guilty. John moved closer, but not towards the blue shoulder. He touched a finger to Sam's neck and bought it back to see the colour of his fingertip, it was red. "Sam. You're bleeding."

"Yeah," Sam said, scratching at the dried blood that had trickled down his neck, "I think I caught my head on a loose nail, or the corner of the balcony when I dropped."

Dean frowned, "You never said anything." He scolded. "You should have told me."

"I'm sorry, I was a bit busy dangling down the side of a building." Sam retorted. "Next time I'll be sure to give you a full body check."

Meanwhile, John had been looking at the incision in Sam's hair. "There's a bump and a large scratch. Head wounds bleed a lot. I think the most you'll get is a thumper of a headache. We'll have to keep an eye on it though, you can't be too careful with head injuries." He started, "But I think your arms dislocated. Dean, we have a sling in the trunk of the Impala," Dean was outside in a matter of seconds.

"I don't need a sling." Sam complained.

"Just for a couple of days." John assured. Sam bit his lip in protest but nodded his head anyway. "I'll give you some pain killers and then you're off to bed." The oldest Winchester commanded. Sam nodded again, he was exhausted anyway.

* * *

**A/N Please, please, please review! **

**Any suggestions/ requests. If you think it's going to slow/ fast. Anything you want.**

* * *

**_~Review Reply~_**

_**Naivaraeladrin - Cheers. Glad you liked it. Do you think it was good that I kept it?**_

_**Sammyfan101 - Thank you! That's so sweet. Really? Thank You! **_

**_britnic - Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it :)_**

**_Ash-wood95 - Thank you so much for all of that, it really helped. And I agree, I'm not really into all the wincest/Destiel stuff. It's not really my cuppa tea. Thank you. Im not really sure on how well I'm doing Johns character either, he's really hard to capture. Any more tips after reading this one? They really helped. Thank you! _**

**_sarah - Thank you! Did you like this one or do you think it's gone a bit downhill? Xx_**

**_reannablue - Ha ha, thank you! Im glad you wanted more. And I put in some more Sam POV in here for you. Thank you X_**

**_Guest - Thank you so much, your comment made me really happy :) Im glad you wanted more. _**


	3. Smoke On the Water

**A/N. Hi, sorry this is a tad late. Just wanted to say thanks to all those that reviewed and favourited, and for those of you that haven't, I would really like to know what you thought! Xx**

* * *

**_Previously: _**_"I don't need a sling." Sam complained._

_"Just for a couple of days." John assured. Sam bit his lip in protest but nodded his head anyway. "I'll give you some pain killers and then you're off to bed." The oldest Winchester commanded. Sam nodded again, he was exhausted anyway._

**A Trick Of the Tail**

**~3~**

**Smoke On the Water**

Sam woke to the soft, quiet muttering of his brothers and fathers voice. He rolled over to hear them better, not opening his eyes to let them know he was awake just yet.

"I know Dad but -" Dean whispered.

John cut him off, "Dean, I get it. I don't like it either. But we have a duty to -"

"Dad, Sammy's in danger here. And he comes before any sort of _duty _we have anywhere." Dean voiced angrily.

"Don't you dare think that I don't have Sammy's safety at the top of my list." He warned angrily, "We won't let any demon take him - and they'll be sorry if they did."

Dean nodded, rubbing his face with his calloused hand, "Yeah. I know. I just…" He sighed, dropping his hand, "I don't like it Dad."

"I know you don't. But he'll be fine."

Dean interrupted, "But what if he isn't?"

John looked sternly at his oldest son. "He will be. And if he isn't, then we'll burn that bridge when we get there." He said, "But, far as I'm concerned, Sammy's not going to get close enough to the water to even touch that bridge."

Sam's anger grew as he overheard the conversation. So they didn't think he was capable of standing up for himself? They were so overprotective, between the two of them he couldn't feel like he could breathe when he was around them. They treated him like he was still the baby that was saved from the fire when he was six months old. It wasn't the first time they had doubted he could protect himself either. Just the other day they were discussing the same thing on the last hunt. And Sam was sick of it. He could help with a hunt in more ways than just research. He wasn't useless, even if they thought so.

He pushed his anger to the back of his mind when he 'woke up' and stretched with a loud yawn, wincing when he felt the bruises on his shoulder. The two older hunters turned to look at him, "Morning Sleeping Samantha." Dean commented dryly, looking at Sam's hair that was pointing in all directions it wasn't meant to.

Sam glared at him but ignored it and got out of bed.

It didn't take long for the boys to get ready for school after waking up and were soon back in the Impala, on their way to their new schools.

"Dean?" Sam asked as they rolled down the street. He wasn't usually so into the hunts they went on; they just confirmed how far from 'normal' he was. But these missing children had really been chewing at his heart. They had no idea what was happening to them and most of them were younger than himself. "What do you think the demon's doing to those children?" Dean's lips thinned as Sam voiced his worries, "What if we can't find them? They could already be dead already, or about to die."

"We'll find them." Dean assured, "When was the last time we didn't finish a hunt?" He asked his brother, looking at him expectantly.

"Never." Sam confirmed, "But this is different, we have a time limit on this one; we have no idea what's happening to them. And we don't have anything to go on." He complained.

"That's not true." Dean argued. "Those scales were a big clue, now we just need to find out what kind of fugly demon has snake skin."

"Or lizard skin." Sam offered.

"Yeah, whatever."

hg

* * *

A few hours later Sam was sitting on the grass outside with Nellie, Zoey, Katie and Kyle under a tree, in shelter from the sun.

"Of corse they're real!" Nellie exclaimed. "Sometimes, things will just fly off my shelf. Like, heavy jugs and things, that wasn't the 'wind', Kyle. How do you explain why one of our wine bottle suddenly exploded one time?"

"It's called _gravity." _Kyle retorted, scratching the back of his neck, "And there's lots of reasons why something can just _explode - _all scientifically proven. There's nothing that can prove they're real."

"Come on, Nel. It's all bogus." Zoey agreed.

Nellie shook her head, "There's nothing that can prove they _aren't _real."

"Okay, well how do you explain why they are always described as wearing clothes?" Kyle asked, "So ghosts are meant to be a dead person's spirit that is trapped in some void between heaven and earth, or something like that, right? Unless you're arguing that clothes have spirits too, how on earth could it possibly be on a ghost?" Kyle argued.

"They aren't spirits," Katie fought, "You remember Einsteins energy law? That matter can't be created or destroyed? Ghosts are like the astral body that was once inside a physical body which the ghost doesn't occupy anymore."

"And?_" _Kyle asked.

"_And_, " Katie continued, "That means they're a projection. Of corse clothes don't have spirits, dipshit."

"Well, with the intellectual standard you're showing, I wouldn't be surprised if you thought so." Zoey commented. Katie looked glared at her.

"What do you think, Sam?" Nellie asked.

"Come on, Sam doesn't believe in any of this shit." Kyle said, scratching at his neck again.

Sam had barely been able to contain his laughter throughout the entire conversation. His face had been growing a deeper shade of red as he tried to suppress his amusement. They were all so wrong. Although, he couldn't help but be jealous of their innocence. And he gave credit to Katie for her theory - even if it wasn't quite right.

"Sorry?" Sam asked, knowing exactly what they were asking.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Katie asked.

"Oh," Sam said, "Haven't given it much thought." He shrugged. He couldn't help but smile when he thought how that was probably the biggest lie he had ever told anyone.

"I think it's stupid how someone could come up with such a ridiculous concept." Kyle said, scratching more vigorously at his neck once more.

"What are you trying to do? Dig to your brain?" Zoey asked, nodding at Kyle's hand, "It's no use. There's nothing to find."

Kyle shot her a glare, "I got bit by those bugs last night."

"Ooh, let's see." Zoey said, swatting Kyle's hand out the way and pushing his head down to take a look at his neck.

After seeing Sam's confused expression, Katie turned to him, "There's been this weird kinda bed bug round town recently. No one know's what it is, too big to be a normal bed bug."

"But it goes after a week or so… So I've been told." Nellie added.

"Yeah, they're just bloody annoying and hurt like a bitch." Kyle groaned, head still bent.

"You're such a baby." Katie commented.

"Well you get bitten by what feel's like four wasps and we'll see who'll be complaining."

"Okay, first of all, wasps don't bite, they sting." Katie corrected.

"Whatever Stephanie Hawking."

"Baby." Katie repeated.

"Yeah," Nellie agreed, "You complain more than Sam and he… wait what did you do to your arm, Sam?" She asked turning to him.

"Oh nothing," He brushed, "I dislocated it, but it's fine now. Just my dad being stubborn." He said, nodding at the sling.

Nellie and Katie looked sympathetic, "How'd it happen?"

"I tripped down the stairs." He said, offering a one shouldered shrug. He knew it was a weak lie but he wasn't exactly going to tell her how he had broke into her house the night before to look for any clues that would show him where her kidnapped sister had gone missing to, which he happened to know was a snake/lizard demon that took her, and upon their escape, Sam slipped and was dangling off the side of their house. He thought the stair's was a better option.

"See, you complain more than Sam and he dislocated his arm." Nellie continued.

Zoey giggled, "Dude, it looks like you've been bitten by a vampire or something."

"What?" Kyle said, peering up.

"Guys seriously, Come look," Zoey laughed, gesturing to the rest of the group.

Sam leant over to take a peek at Kyle's neck. He was startled when he saw it really did look like a vampire bite. The two red marks were too swollen to be a normal bug bite and there were two small holes in the middle of both of the bumps. They were an equal distance apart to represent where two fangs would have dug into. But, where the bite should have been tinged with a slight ring of green to indicate vampire venom, instead it was purple. Also, vampires had thinner fangs than the little holes that were in Kyle's neck. And if it was a vampire, Kyle would be dead, and definitely not in front of him to show the marks.

Katie laughed, "Maybe Kyle's a vamp."

"Would you believe in the supernatural if you turned into a vampire, Kyle?" Nellie teased.

As Kyle sat up, about to reply, Zoey interrupted, "Hey guys, look's like Carver got bitten too."

"Carver?" Sam asked, looking around, trying to find who Zoey was looking at.

'William Wallace." Kyle supplied.

Sam nodded his acknowledgement and looked round for the beefy young giant that had attacked Kyle the day before. He found him sitting with a bunch of his friends - who looked just as permanently pissed as he did - on a fence, itching the back of his neck vigorously. It took a few seconds to realise that the whole group of overweight thugs were scratching their necks. Sam frowned.

Scanning the rest of the area, he could found a couple more people scratching their necks. He quickly spotted the pattern. Kyle had messed with Carver yesterday and that night he got bitten. Then Carver and his friends got bites too and the other bitten kids all looked like they were capable of causing some kind of trouble. There were a few he wasn't so sure about and looked quite nice, but he didn't know anything about them - they could've been murderers for all he knew.

His frown deepened, what kind of supernatural thing bit troublemaking children in the night?

* * *

When the Impala rolled up and stopped where it had the day before, Sam almost ran to the car and jumped into the passenger seat.

Dean sighed with a grin on his face, "What is it?" He asked, starting the Impala up again.

"I'll tell you with when we get home so Dad can hear." Sam said.

"Dad's not at home." Dean said, turning down a different street.

"Why?"

Dean glanced at Sam, "He's at the police station, trying to get the file of the missing kids off the sheriff."

"Oh, okay. How long do you think he'll be?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "He just left, might be a while; he's going in as FBI and will probably need to go through everything the Sheriff has on the case with him." Dean explained, "Looks like we'll be hitting the books tonight ourselves."

Sam nodded.

The Impala rolled up outside the motel room a few moments later and the two boys walked in, checking the protection sigils and salt lines before sitting down at the small table in the kitchen corner of the room.

"Okay," Dean said, taking a swig of his beer, "Shoot."

"Do any of the people in your school scratch their necks?" He asked.

Dean pulled an incredulous double take on Sam, "Wait, What?"

"So it's just children." Sam said thoughtfully.

Dean stared at Sam staring blankly, lost in thought, "… Care to elaborate?" Dean prompted.

Sam shook out of his reverie and looked back at Dean, "My friend, Kyle had a bite on his neck today. They looked like fangs."

"Like a vamp bite?" Dean asked with furrowed brows.

Sam shook his head, "There wasn't any vampire venom. Instead of the green tinge, there was a bit of purple."

"Purple?" Dean asked, his eyes widening.

"Yeah, and the bite mark was wider than a vampire's would've been."

Dean shook his head, "I don't understand. Why would Kyle be bitten by -,"

"It wasn't just Kyle," Sam interrupted, "When I looked around, I saw loads of people scratching their necks."

" So… This thing is just going round biting random people in their sleep?" Dean asked with a frown.

Sam shook his head again, "Not random. I found a pattern, it looks like it's just all the troublemaking kids. Like, bullies and people who pull pranks."

Dean's eyebrows raised, "I didn't know you watched Veronica Mars."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

Sam's favourite part of the hunt had always been the research. There was so much you learnt with just a few pages of reading - even if it wasn't related to the particular job. With the help of the internet, It didn't take long at all to find something on a supernatural being that bit naughty children.

"Mormo." Sam whispered, "Dean it's -" Sam stopped himself when he turned and saw Dean asleep in his chair. Even if Sam thought research was the best part, his brother certainly didn't think so.

He lean't over and prodded his brother. Dean's eyes snapped opened, "What?"

"You fell asleep again." Sam grinned.

Dean frowned, "I didn't fall asleep."

"Yes you did."

Dean sat up. "I was just resting my eyes."

"And practicing snoring?"

"I have to keep my skills acuminate." Sam raised his eyebrows at him, "What?" He asked.

"Acuminate? There's the back of the cereal box."

Dean shook his head at his brother. "What you got?"

"I think I found it." Sam said, shuffling his notes round, "It's Mormo."

"It's more of what?" Dean blinked rapidly, trying to rid the sleep from his eyes.

"Mormo. According to Greek mythology, Mormo was a female vampire-like spirit who bit bad children. She was said to be the companion of Hecate - the goddess of witchcraft. Mormo was a sort of threat that adults would tell their children; that if they misbehaved they would get bitten by her in the night."

"So, sort of like the modern day Bogeyman if you don't eat you vegetables." Dean asked. Sam nodded. "But that doesn't make sense; why does our demonic Freddy Krueger bite some kids but take others?"

Sam bit his lip. It was a question he had asked himself while he was reading. "And why were there demonic signs, not spiritual?" Sam added.

Dean shrugged, "Sometimes spirits give off demonic signs. Specially powerful ones. And this Greek son of a bitch sounds like it's the real deal."

"But what about the sulphur?" Sam said thoughtfully. Dean frowned.

It was much later that evening and well into the night when John finally came back to see his boys still up and researching. They told him about what happened with the bites, what they thought it was, but how they still couldn't understand the demonic signs - mainly the sulphur.

"So you think it's an ancient Greek spirit." John questioned.

Sam nodded thoughtfully, "A powerful one."

John fingered the book Sam had put in front of him, opened at the page about the vampiric spirit. "But - on top of how there are demonic signs, not spiritual - it doesn't explain the scale's we found at the house last night."

Dean frowned again. Parts of it fit together but the rest didn't make any sense at all. John reached down into his bag beside him and pulled out the files he had retrieved from the Sheriff earlier that day. The talk he had had with the Sheriff had been close to useless. They really had no leads at all and had no idea what to make of it. And John didn't blame him; he didn't know what to make of it himself and he knew all about the kind of case this actually was.

"Also," John added, "It says this son of a bitch bites bad children." He said, rereading the right paragraph to double-check, "From what I can tell," He said, flipping open a few of the files and spreading them out on top of all the notes and books on the table, "These children aren't 'bad'. Two of them were straight A students."

Sam nodded his agreement, "Nellie talks about Alia sometimes. It doesn't sound like she made any trouble." He confirmed, "Hell, the girl was eight. Another was five. What can you do that's so wrong at that age?"

John shook his head, "I don't know. There must be something we're missing." He said, "We'll try again tomorrow."

* * *

Sam walked towards the school library after school the next day. Dean had called and told him he'd gotten a detention and would be over in forty minutes to pick him up. Sam said he could walk but Dean wouldn't let him, even after all of Sam's whining. The youngest Winchester opened the library forcefully when he walked up to the old, large, brick building; Dean didn't even trust him to walk home on his own.

He figured he'd do something useful in the spare time and try and do some more research. The library was big and it took a long time to quietly find the Greek mythology section. Reading the title's on the spines of the books, he pulled out a few that he thought would be relevant and looked around for a seat. The building was almost completely empty after school hours and Sam wound round the labyrinth of book shelves and quickly eyed a seat with a large table.

He arranged the books in a pile on the table and quickly got to work, letting his mind get lost in the words as he read through them. After a half hour, he couldn't find anything more useful than what he already knew. There wasn't much about the evil spirit written in the texts, and still no explanations for the sulphur or any of the other things that didn't add up.

Frustrated, Sam got up front the table and shoved the books back in their respective places. He walked down the library steps, lost in thought. He must be on completely the wrong tack. The only thing that really linked to the Greek spirit was that it was biting bad children. And the books said nothing about Mormo being a lizard (or a snake) and there was still no explanation of the demonic signs and the missing children.

It didn't make any sense, why was it - whatever _it_ was - taking the children? Were the children picked at random or was there a link between them they still couldn't find? They needed to find out more, and they needed to find it soon. Sam couldn't wait around to let more children get taken. But it seemed as though they had come to a dead end. The only thing Sam thought would help is if he got bitten.

Sam's mind conjured up different ideas of how to cause trouble as he walked beyond the library and was turning the corner when something hard bashed into the side of his face.

He stumbled to the side and fell to the floor from the impact. Clutching his side instinctively and turning round to see what had happened, he was hit by another swing - an uppercut to his jaw. Sam's head flung back and bashed into the hard concrete surface. He groaned as he felt the previous wound open up and the familiar feeling of warm blood tricking through his hair. Despite himself, he quickly sat up, his head spinning. But he ignored it and stood up, facing his opponent.

"William Wallace?" Sam said under his breath as he stared, unfocused, at the bulky teenager that stood in front of him.

"What did you just call me?" Carver roared, towering over Sam's small and skinny frame. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, "What did he just call me?"

Sam noticed the two other teenagers standing behind the boy. He saw the smug look written across all of their faces, including the very red, fat one that was right in front of him.

Sam cursed his father under his breath as he tried to move his arm but was pulled back by the material of the sling.

"Hey, jackass, I asked you a question." Carver moved to jab Sam in the stomach, but he was slow and Sam simply moved to the side.

"Look, I don't have time for this, I've got somewhere I need to be." Sam tried to avoid the fight he new was coming as quickly and calmly as he could. He knew Dean would be waiting for him at any minute. He wasn't stupid enough to turn his back on the teenagers but he started walking away, fully aware that they weren't done with him, but there wasn't any harm in hoping they were.

"Did you here that?" The teenager sniggered, "He doesn't have time for us." He laughed with his friends. Sam saw him approach out the corner of his eye as Carver's expression went from jubilant to menacing in 0.2 seconds. "Well make time, hobbit." He said, giving Sam a forceful push.

As Sam stumbled backwards slightly, his anger spiked and an idea surfaced; he could get in trouble with these guys. That's how Kyle had gotten bitten, it had to work. He was sure to get a beating out of it but the dead-end in the research part of the hunt was eating him alive.

Sam impatiently turned to face the boy properly, determination in his eyes, "What do you want, blubber nuggets? Im busy."

Sam wouldn't usually urge a fight on like this, but he needed to do something worthy of getting bitten. He didn't like the odds. Although he was trained, they were still three massive chunky teenagers while he was one scrawny, short, younger boy. But he didn't have a choice.

"What did you call me?" The older boy stuttered, stunned at the boy three feet smaller than himself.

Sam looked up at the boy, "What? You want a hearing aid?" He said, studying the boy, "I'm not sure how well it would compliment your three chins."

"What?!" Carver shouted, completely flabbergasted, his anger rising.

Sam tilted his head to the side, "Oh wait, there's a fourth."

The boy roared and lunged at Sam swinging wildly at his face. Sam ducked easily and watched as the boy continued forward, unable to stop for a few steps. "Im sorry," Sam apologised, "I'll go slower, I don't mean to exert the horizontally challenged."

Sam watched with dread as the boy's face went red and he turned to look at the boys behind him, both of them walking up behind Carver. "Whoa, Juggernaut the abominable donut. Do you mind calling off Chuckles and Twinkie? It's a bit unfair don't you think?" He had no idea where all of these comebacks were popping up from. He made a mental note to spent less time around Dean.

The tallest goon of the three lurched and swung a punch, Sam sidestepped but got punched in the side by another. The air was stollen from his lungs as he stumbled sideways. Another punch was thrown at him but he moved slightly and caught the flailing wrist, pulling it down and sending one of the goons nose to meet his knee.

He held his own for a bit but eventually, he found himself held in the air, both arms pinned to his sides by the sidekicks, Chuckles and Twinkie, as Carver punched his stomach repeatedly.

Sam groaned and curled in on himself as the wounds from all over his body shot waves of pain throughout his frame. He looked up in time to see the Impala roll up under the tree it usually parked under. Sam's determination soared as he thought how much worse it would be th next day if his big brother had to help save him.

One more punch was hit at his ribs when Sam started to retaliate again. He lashed his leg out and caught Carver with a well aimed kick to where the sun don't shine. Or, at least it wasn't going to shine anymore as the bully cried out in pain and dropped to the ground. Sam head butted the guy holding onto his right arm, smashing his skull into the already injured nose. The thug yelped and let go of Sam.

With his free arm, Sam thrust a punch at the other one until his other arm was free. He was caught off guard when a kick was shot at his ribs - where they had constantly been punching at. He struggled to draw in air as two of the thugs that still stood closed in on him again.

"What the hell do you son's of bitches think you're doing?" A voice snarled deeply.

The two boys looked up as if they were deer caught in a headlight. When they noticed it wasn't a teacher, they relaxed for a second, but only a second before they realised that it was actually a six-foot, muscular high school student that looked _really_ pissed.

Before the boys could blink, Dean was two feet away from them both with his fists flying at their faces. Their attempts at fighting back failed miserably to the trained hunter who dodged and blocked their blows with ease and threw his own with fierce precision and force.

Soon, the boys were running back to the main building and Dean walked over to the largest one, still rolling on the floor. He kicked him, "Get up." Dean commanded.

Carver scrambled clumsily to his feet and hobbled as fast as he could to his friends' retreating figures.

"Run fat boy, run." Dean called after him.

He quickly spun round and focused his attention solely on his younger brother who was hunched over his stomach. "You okay, Sammy?" He asked, crouching down next to him and looking at him with concern.

"Yeah." Sam groaned, "Let's get out of here." He said, not wanting to stay for any lurking teachers to find them.

Dean understood and tried to help Sam walk over to the Impala but he shrugged it off, "It'll look weird." He mumbled.

Dean nodded and they started the slow trek over to the car, Sam wishing it had been enough to get a bite.

* * *

**A/N Please let me know ifi Im not describing or explaining things well ****enough. Any criticism or comments in general are welcomed :)**

**Please review!**

* * *

_**~Review Reply~**_

_**Ash-Wood95 - Ha ha, thanks. I thought replying here would be easier than sending a PM separately. Yeah, I'm glad you've noticed that about John too, Im not the only one. And thank you for the tip, I changed it when I saw your comment so thank you. If you spot anything else that doesn't really make sense, let me know. Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it. And thanks for all this help, it's really helping me out Xxxxx**_

_**3 3 3 - Thank you for both of your reviews. Ha ha, cheers, glad you like it! Xx**_

_**sarah - N'aw, thanks. Im really happy that you like it! Thank you so much for reviewing! Xxx**_


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